Taken from page:Scene: Boris Blank in his studio: a huge mess of wires feed into a 956 channel desk. Boris, clad in expensive, tight leather jeans, is slapping his own behind. Suddenly we become aware that there is a microphone, and that he is sampling the sound to use as a snare. Dieter enters the room, wearing a powder blue suit and carrying a rose. He has a watchful, slightly perverted expression on his face)
Boris (To himself): Hmmmm.

Dieter: Hello, my good friend. I have just come from the Dada Art Festival at the Swiss Museum of Modern Art. There was a crate full of oranges into which a man was projected wearing only his socks. It was amusing. How is our new song going?

Boris: It is cinematic, as usual. And yet, I feel strangely remote.

Dieter: Good, good, this is European ennui at work. I shall write some lyrics about a man deparying mysteriously from his lover in the dead of night in a limousine, leaving only a note implying he has a secret life.